Category writing

Today is really special and important and I hope you got me a gift. As of today, I’ve been blogging here at WordPress (with sporadic regularity) for four years! Woo-hoo! Let’s dance!

Okay. Maybe it’s not that important but I’ll still take the gift. Blogging, for me, has been an amazing tool to journal my ongoing recovery, to get things off my mind and onto a page and a testing ground for other things I’m writing or working on. When I started blogging, I didn’t really know where it would go. As an obedient alcoholic, I did it all one post at time. At nearly 3 years of sobriety, my main goal was hanging onto what I had and this blog helped me do that. Through blogging, I met other people like me, some of which I even met in person and I was routinely greeted with a chorus “You Are Not Alone” in the comments section. This affirmation and the support of other bloggers helped me finish two full length plays, publish a short story and grow as a writer and human being. Thank you for that.

Now, at almost 7 years my life, my writing and my recovery have changed. It’s gotten bigger and honestly, better. They told me when I was first getting sober that this would happen and they were right. I’ve got a few writing projects burning a hole in my brain for 2015 and I don’t know how much blogging I’ll do. But I hope to hang onto it and use it as an outlet to reach out to other peeps in recovery, to develop new ideas and to help ease my crazy brain– one post at a time.

To celebrate four years at WordPress, here’s 4 of my favorite posts in no particular order. Thank you for giving a crap and Happy Holidays!

Fear Itself: This post from earlier in the month was an exhale of the fear I was walking around with as well as my reflection on the times we’re living in. It was therapeutic to write so again, thank you.

Am I Blue: This post from September 2014 makes this list because it was the first time I wrote about my ongoing relationship with depression and doing so was really helpful. Turns out, other people read it and identified too which is really fucking cool.

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Okay now that I’ve gotten Donna Summer out of my system(for now), I’m excited to share that my new play “Your Heart is a Radio” is getting ready for staged readings! It’s been a year in conception and writing so it feels good. Did I say excited? I meant terrified. After all, it’s not really theatre unless you’re scared shitless, right? The crazy thing about this show is how personal it got during the writing process. Like split open my insides, put lights around them and throw them inside-kind of personal. But before we go any further, I need to tell a Fleetwood Mac story.

On the morning of my 26th birthday in Los Angeles, I loaded up my beautiful but hyper dog and took him for a hike. It was one of those perfect beautiful LA days and my drinking felt like it was under control (ha ha ha) and my relationship hadn’t gotten terrible so that morning was pretty fantastic. On the way up the canyon, I listened to one of LA’s classic rock stations. Before playing the above song, the dj, one of those guys with a gravely voice and endless rock knowledge, told the heartbreaking story of how “Sara” by Fleetwood Mac was written. At the time, Stevie Nicks claimed the song was about a friend she had loved and lost (It would later be revealed that Sara was about a baby she had with Don Henley and lost making the story even sadder.) The dj’s story was impactful to me for some reason as I parked the car. I then just sat there and listened to the song and felt incredibly moved.To this day I cannot hear that song and not think of that morning, that birthday, that moment.

Flash forward 16 years later, at age 42 my husband and I were having a conversation about writing and he said, “Music has such a profound impact on you. You should write a show about it.” He’s one of my most succinct collaborators and as a director he has an insight into theatre that I don’t. At the time, I thought, Hmm that could be interesting but didn’t know how or what I’d do exactly. This lead to thinking about the moments and the songs I’ll never forget, like “Sara” on my birthday or the time I was blaring Tom Petty and again with Stevie Nicks and got into a car accident with my sister

Or listening to the Promise by When In Rome on repeat and pining for a douchey, hipster goth guy.

Or dancing to “Thinking of You” high on ecstasy as the sun came up.

Turns out my life was filled with these moments and I suspected other people’s were too. Like Donna Summer, my life, my loves everything could be heard on the radio. So I took to Facebook and asked,”What’s that song the immediately takes you back to a place or memory?” Suffice it say, my suspicions were right. Over 100 people responded with touching, funny, bizarre stories. It was then I knew I was onto something.This wasn’t about the best song or your favorite song it was about music impacting your life and your life happening while music was on. The responses were genuine and really inspiring. I started really writing the show, with the help of my writing group, in January. Piece by piece the show came together as s series of monologues that I starting calling Your Heat is a Radio, a monologue mixtape”. As my own memories of songs shaped the monologues, the show got really personal. And scary. Like I said at the beginning of this post, terrifying. Putting that much of your soul out there is freaking intense and I clutched onto the script and didn’t want to let it go. Until this week.

My plan was to have the show up in October. Pneumonia had other plans, however, forcing the show–and all writing into hibernation. Feeling better and ready to finally birth this darn thing, I got the courage and opened the document. Turned out, it was in excellent shape. (I mean aside from needing an ending and having whole portions rewritten or tossed out completely. Aah theatre.) I dove back in this week and it felt good. Of course I had the requisite, “Oh my God. This is horrible and it should never see the light of day” but that’s art for you. Being sober has taught me to not pay too much attention to the voices of fear. I can hear them and acknowledge they’re in the room wreaking havoc, give them the finger and keep going. My story, this story has merit and deserves a life so fear can suck it. I’m now planning on a staged reading in spring and submitting it to some festivals. The cool thing about theatre is once it gets in front of people it stops being about me. The audience gets their own relationship with it and takes it somewhere else. And I love that. At the end of the day, I’m proud of it and I’m proud of me and that’s fucking huge.

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I read recently that 68-year-old punk/pop icon Debbie Harry hopped up on stage and sang Heart of Glass with Arcade Fire at Coachella. Just because she can. Just because she’s, as Arcade Fire’s Win Butler introduced her, “Debbie fucking Harry.” But mainly, because she’s always had guts. Don’t ever get it twisted- No Debbie? No Madonna. No Gwen. No Gaga. No Miley. Period. The queen of the underground personified balls and moxie in the 70’s and 80’s. Harry’s tough stalkerish lyrics (I’m gonna getcha, getcha, getcha), jaw-dropping fashion sense, which basically every hipster chick would end up trying to copy for the next 30-years,

and her never-ending ability to surprise (rapping, for example)

put Debbie on the top of the heap. Debbie changed everything America thought they knew about rock and roll frontwomen.

Personally, Debbie blew my little gay mind when I saw her on shows like American Bandstand and Solid Gold during my childhood.

Henri Matisse once wrote, “Creativity takes courage.” Debbie Harry has that in spades. Me as of late? Uh. Maybe not so much. Yes, I’ve been monthly toiling away on a collection of one-acts that’ll be read this summer and yes I’ve been working as a producer on a new show. And yeah I’ve read 15 novels since December and tried to intake as much art as I can but over the last month I feel like I’ve been hiding. It’s like writing and creating stuff are the things that make me feel the most free but somehow I’m ignoring those things and choosing to feel paralyzed and uninspired instead. Yeah. That sounds really healthy. In fact, it sounds like the recipe card for my classic Self-Sabotage Souffle. Damn. I thought I threw that fucking thing out. It’s humbling to think that self-doubt can easily creep in my windows, tie me up in the basement and basically hold me hostage regardless of how long I’ve been in recovery. One way or another, it’s gonna get me, get me, get me.

Nevertheless, I’m doing what 5-years of being sober has taught me: telling on myself. Moving the things that scare me into the light is the surest way to thwart their power. So I’ve been hiding but what am I going to do about it? For one, I’m going to follow a friend’s lead and write a little every morning. Hence the rebirth of this blog (the suggestion of another friend). The simple equation of “No writing= feel bad” is easy enough to motivate me to move past fear and hop up on stage, metaphorically speaking of course. Doing things that scare me or that seem impossible helps pull me out of the dark. I say all of this to hold myself accountable. I’m going to blog for the next 30 days just to get my brain moving and to help kick fear in the ass. Friends, I would love to hear about the things that scare you but you do anyway. PS- It’s nice to see you again.

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You know what you probably haven’t read enough of? Year-end lists! I mean, what could be more compelling than reading what a random stranger loved or hated about an entire year? And yet here you are reading my year-end list. Thanks for that by the way. I like my opinions like I like my coffee– strong and with no bullshit so hopefully list will be entertaining and if not maybe you’ll include it in your own list of “Top 10 Blogs that Bored You to Tears.” At any rate, 2013 was a banner year for me and reading.

Books have been a lifelong romance of my mine but that doesn’t mean we’ve always been close. See when the better part of 20 years is spent reading the trashy magazines while slugging down tequila, finding the time to cuddle up to a novel is darn near impossible. But not so in 2013. After reading one too many blog posts with numbers in the title– 10 Reasons Why 90’s Kids Should Still Love PBS!, 9 Hottest Styles For When You Don’t Care!,8 Ways Buzzfeed Is Turning Your Brain into Cream O’ Wheat!— I decide to relight my book romance. From April to December, I read 23 books!( I know, I know. I even read alcoholically.) It’s safe to say me and books, like Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn, are still very much in love. While some of them challenged me and others disappointed, the majority of them were really fucking great. So without further and here are 7 books I read and really loved in 2013, in no particular order. Please note that while I read all of them in 2013, not all of them were released this year.

Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey It’s fairy tale for grown ups. It’s a fable about loss. It’s a portrait of a frozen world touched by magic. It’s all these things and utterly unforgettable.

90 Days by Bill Clegg I’m picky when it comes to recovery memoirs. I think most recovery writers tend to focus on the drama part and not the whole getting better part and it frankly bores the shit out of me. But Bill Clegg strikes a perfect balance here and tells a concise and inspiration realistic tale of life in early recovery.

Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter I love old movies. I love Italy. And I love laughing my face off while reading so this book was as satisfying as a homemade pasta dinner. Walter is straight up brilliant and hilarious and the kind of writer I’d like to be when I grow up.

A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki An involving mystery, an ecological meditation, instructions on actual meditation, physics and biology lessons, and a diary written by a teenage girl you can’t help but fall in love with are just a few of the things Ruth Ozeki crams into this book. And somehow she makes it all work seamlessly into a novel I found to be at once heartbreaking, lovely and yes, timeless.

We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo Short of buying a case of this book and handing it out to people on the street, I can’t recommend We Need New Names enough. Harrowing, funny, insightful and written with real moxie, I couldn’t put it down this tale of a young girl from Zimbabwe. This book transcends that crappy “foreign person from troubled background” genre by doing something really special– writing without apology and with a truth everybody can identify with.

Five Star Billionaire by Tash Aw These interwoven stories of modern Shanghai had me utterly captivated. Aw’s chatty, perceptive and smart insight into his characters is like a close friend giving you a behind the scenes look at a city torn between the future and the past. I set this book down and felt a little teary and sad which I consider a really good sign.

A Constellation of Vital Phenomena I don’t know what else to say about this novel of war-torn Chechnya other than “wow.” This perhaps the best thing I read all year. I don’t know if I’ll ever forget this book. It moved me. It scared the shit out of me. It broke my heart. It cracked me up. I love it so much and just want you to read so we can talk about it over coffee. Thanks.

As I plow my way through The Goldfinch (LOVING it) and have a zillion other books on queue, I think I’ll want to revise or add to this list but I’m confident in my choices plus there’s always 2014!

Friends, what did you read and love in 2013? Fill my comments section with awesome book recommendations please! And Happy New Year!

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Two years ago today I started writing this blog. The point of the whole exercise was to sort of track my progress thus far in recovery. I was nearly 3 years sober at the time and things I thought I could never look at or write about suddenly seemed like they would be interesting to put down . Some of it was still hard to write about but a lot of it was enlightening or informative and even more of it was really funny. What wound up happening was this crazy journey of blogging, connecting to other writers and a practice of writing truthfully about my life. Please enjoy this foul-mouthed gingerbread man found on a dish towel at Ross and then I’ll continue my navel gazing and self-congratulation.

2 years later a lot has changed. I’ve had 2 full-length shows professionally produced, tons of stuff published, health issues, losses, triumphs and the regular flow of life that happens to everyone even non narcissists who don’t feel the need to track their own every move on social media. In short, I’m not the blogger that I used to be. Speaking of narcissism, let me quote myself to help me hurry up and get to the point. In the post entitled Please Don’t Let This Feeling End, I describe my purpose of writing this blog as follows:

“In a way, urtheinspiration is my greatest hits. Thoughts I’ve had, secrets I’ve kept, memories that have come back, memories that are still fuzzy and new theme songs. Also, You’re the inspiration refers to you, the people I know and don’t know who battle addiction and adversity who routinely tell me, “yes, you can get through this.””

While that is still true, this blog had changed since it was born two years ago. Like any two-year old, it’s wild, cranky, unpredictable and easily bored. So my interest in blogging and writing in general as of late has been passing at best. I whine that I’m not inspired. Or that I don’t have any time. Or ideas. Or motivation. In other words, I invent loads of horseshit in order to keep me from producing things and being creative. Sounds insane I know but let’s consider the source here for a minute, shall we? So going into our third year, I’m going to mix things up around this joint. I’ll still write about recovery and all the crazy things inside my head. But I also want to publish more visual posts, original videos, short fiction and randomness to keep this little two-year old stimulated and entertained. And hopefully you all will be entertained too! Mainly I want to keep writing because I love it and I still don’t want this to end. It may not come again and I want to remember.

Thanks again for reading and happy holidays!

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Why, hello! Fancy bumping into you here. I wish I had some incredible story to share as to why I haven’t been blogging as much. It seems like there should be an amazing trip to France or some fancy career thing happening but the truth is it’s just life happening. It’s gotten big and busy. Which I guess is a miracle enough. The fact that I have relationships, work and passions is incredible. I’m trying these days not to fall into the gross American habit of saying “busy” like it’s some handicap. Like having a life and being busy is something people should feel sorry for me about. Or being busy allows me to be a douche or gives me a free pass to be eternally cranky. The tricky thing about having a life, however, is staying focused and on track.

A couple of weeks ago, my husband and I celebrated his birthday by going to the Denver Botanic Gardens and the above sign was all over the place. Obviously, put in place so folks didn’t trample the pretty plants and flowers. The brazen bunnies and squirrels didn’t pay much attention to it but they live there so they kinda get go wherever they want, signs be damned. The message of the sign, although intended to prevent botanical homicide, resonated with me. Currently, I’m collaborating on a poetry anthology, co-producing a bi-monthly showcase of new works, editing two monologues to appear in said showcase, handling the PR and marketing for Horse & Cart’s new production, working on my third full-length play and contributing to 3 blogs. And an awesome part-time job that forces me to get dressed up and interact with humans. I also have two demanding manageable conditions that need treatment daily, a marriage to cherish and cultivate and relationships to nurture to the best of my ability. Oh– and I’m also moving into a cute little duplex in November. So yeah. Boo hoo. My life is awesome. But I’d be lying if I said I handled it all flawlessly in a uber organized manner. Kind of the opposite. It seems like I get an avalanche of projects, have few days of “Holy Shit!’ and then somehow or another it gets done. All of it. It helps when I remember that I’m a writer and that I’m not saving lives. I’m just creating stuff which hopefully people will enjoy and some of it even pays me!

I can also avoid the “overwhelmed by enormously important business” trap if I remember what my path is. Staying sober, helping others and continuing to grow as a creative person seems like a simple enough path for me to follow. Everything else falls into place when I’m on that path. I recently ended a longtime stint as a copywriter and content creator. Naturally, more doors have opened with that out of the way. More opportunities to help people and do creative projects I want to do have presented themselves too. It all feels easy and not stressful. I have to remember to be grateful for my big full busy crazy life and it should be treated as a gift if I wanna hang onto it. And if I need to get off the path, not return some phone calls and just hang out in the shade for a few minutes like the little rulebreaker pictured above, that’s okay too.

Amgios y Amigas, how do you stay on path? What’s your path? And how do you avoid feeling overwhelmed? Share with me in the comments section below!

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The songstress in the photo below once crooned, “People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.” While the inherent codependency of that lyric could be undoubtedly discussed until my computer exploded, I guess the 1960’s wisdom of ‘needing people’ to express not isolating from others is sweet. Yet seeing what a pain in the ass they are, people who tell other people to go screw themselves might be luckiest people in the world.

Now relax, I’m not going to launch into a post about how people suck and how wronged I’ve been by the entire planet beginning with my abusive 1st grade teacher(affectionately known as Sister Snake Face) leading all the way up to the cashier at Starbucks from last week who ignored me (affectionately known as “douche waffle”). Sadly, recovery has forever tainted my bitch sessions about others. I’ve been programmed to look at my part first and to have compassion for crazy people and to pray for people I want to kill. Really takes the fun out of the whole ritual. As a drug, people really suck. Next to slamming Robotussin, no other substance provides such an unreliable high and such a flaming hot headache. As former grand marshal of the codependents parade, which never happened on the account of all of our time being spent worrying about each other, people addiction is something I know a little about. Listen, like I said, if drugs or a bottle were available I’d gladly take them first. But people were more like cigarettes. Not a fast high but a habit that would make me sicker and crazier the longer I did it. Just how I like my habits to behave. A year and half away from romantic relationships and some gnarly soul-searching helped me kick my people drug. However, that detox was a slower and more slippery one. I never had normal relationships. Like ever. So sliding into crazyland behavior like trying to control when people call me, not eating in hopes that we’ll go out to dinner together and generally trying to manipulate people into spending time with me was incredibly easy. It took my several failed friendships in sobriety and months of dating hell to realize, I had a long way to go in building a health relationships with these ‘people’ Babs was singing about.

I bring this up today because people as they are known to do, have been a disappointment lately. And by lately I mean since that whole Garden of Eden fuckup. Seriously, my relationships get complicated and that’s a blessing. Really. My relationships these days are real and authentically human with actual people. Which is terrific for somebody who use to refer to friends who he knew from nightclubs as “We Hate Her” and “Snaggle Toe”. The flipside of these real relationships is that always sometimes people let you down. Again, they’re an incredibly dicey drug. I’d be better off with a pack of Kools and a box of wine if I wanted to check out. Thankfully, I don’t want to check out today. I also know that humans being human is a two-way street. I let people down too. I screw up constantly. And , yes, 12-steppers, I’m usually to blame, at least partially, for whatever issue I have with people is. Sigh.

I heard Barbra say in an interview she always thought the lyric should be that “people who don’t need people are the luckiest people in the world” as it expressed the heartbreak her character in Funny Girl went through. I get it. But it seems like that song turned out okay. I know that if I just let things happens, just forgive people for being people and just be grateful for having the people in my life that I do have, I’ll be okay too.

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And so we’ve reached the end of my 30 day blogging experiment. I know. You’re heartbroken. But fear not, I liked it so much that I’m going to try to post everyday from here on out! Even if it’s little stuff or goofy videos, I like talking to you guys and surprisingly not out of things to say.So I’m afraid your stuck with me. Although a few days ago, I wasn’t sure if I should continue at all.

Midway through this month of blogging, I stated to wonder why I do this? I mean does anybody care? And do I just repeat myself? And what the hell am I even talking about most of the time? And for the love of God what exactly is the point of this blog anyway? I wondered if had peaked or this blog has run its course. I considered that last question seriously. What indeed was the point? And then a few days ago, I remembered. When I got sober in 2009, I hung onto books and blogs and affirmations. Mainly because my life sucked and I needed some sort of hope, even it was from complete strangers that I’d probably never meet. These words were like messages in a bottle telling me to keep going and I clung to them. I believe deeply in the power of words and in the power of laughter so a little spark in the back of my head went off as my life was truly going down the toilet, “Maybe my words can do this for somebody else someday too.” In 2011, that’s why this blog was born. I had zero expectations. I wanted to share my experiences, have a few laughs and continue to use writing as a way to heal myself and gain perspective. Nearly two years later, the little miracles this blog has brought about have been incredible. From the meeting of new real-life friends to incredible messages from strangers who enjoyed my writing, the wonders never cease. It’s also helped me in the creating process of several other book projects and script ideas.

This month of blogging was yet another miracle. In a 30 day period where I felt physically awful, blogging once again provide solace and an outlet. Blogging everyday made me realize that this stuff– the real life stuff and the not so pretty stuff, is what I want to write about. It’s what I want my next book to be all about and it’s the way I think I can provide the most light and hope by using my talent. By writing everyday this month, I also unlocked many key things to my new show which were previously hiding from me. This little month of June did all that and all I had to do was write everyday! So I’m gonna keep going even if I don’t know the point or what all of this is all about. Because if I’m doing things like writing that make me happy, the rest of it isn’t really that important.

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Day 27 of 30 Days of Blog finds me running around like a moron. I’m attending a wedding, putting out some work fires and generally trying to keep my head out of my backside. I would consider myself the “b word” (no, not that b word). Busy. But not in the cop-out American “I’m so busy” way like being busy should deserve me a parade or a special parking spot. I’m busy in the way that I am blessed to do things I love. Listen, I’m lucky to have a life that is full and involves more than waiting tables and drinking tequila until my brain falls out of head. This being said, I thought I’d use today’s post to breathe and let readers get caught up while sharing some news.

First off, the news. My new e-book, The Potato Salad Variations has been delayed on the account of my health funkiness and some editing sluggishness. But it will be out in the middle of July and I hope you guys read it. I think it’ll be funny-sad-ridiculous-uplifting. Plus, it has some stories I’ve never put on paper with yummy recipes to boot! It will once again be available thru SmashWords.com and I’ll let you know the exact date as we get closer.

Next the catchup. I have had friends and readers say that my 30 days of blogging has given them too much to read. Fair enough. Take today to get all caught up. Some of the posts I really enjoyed writing this month are as follows:

So will I survive being busy without acting like an entitled jerk? And what accessories will save my wedding outfit? And how many pieces of cake will I really have? You’ll just have to read tomorrow to find out! And thank you in advance for doing that, by the way. 🙂

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After a day of medical ups and downs ending with a solution (they adjusted my meds, officially ruled out pneumonia and cancer and sent me on my way with an easier plan than before–yay!), I had that feeling. You know that “I need to sit and stuff my face and watch a favorite movie” feeling. Aside from psychically still feeling sort of horrible, I need to turn my brain off. All of this uncertainty has worn a bitch out. So no era of filmmaking helps me forget my troubles better than comedies from the 1980s and early 90’s.

I really wanted to watch Overboard or Outrageous Fortune or something incredibly cheesy of that nature. Since I’m a Netflix/Hulu/YouTube only kind of guy having said “See Ya” to cable years ago, however, I had to make concessions. I settled for the underrated camp classic Soapdish, the straight up brilliant Fish Called Wanda and Heathers, a film so funny it still slaughters all other teen films. With the exception of Sixteen Candles which is a comedy from God. My mini-moviefest helped. It was nice to laugh and quote the lines before the characters said them. Movies, I realized have always been my therapist, my escape and my friends. I watched hundreds of hours of old movies as a kid on local channels and on AMC. They were my education outside my little Denver neighborhood and catholic school world. Moreover, they were the reason I wanted to move to LA and tell stories. I’m sad that new movies don’t really inspire me or get me excited. But the thing about being in love with movies is you never give up hope or stop believing that maybe next season there will be ten things I want to see. In short, it’s a romance I won’t let go of.

This got me thinking about my LIST. You know that list of movies you can’t live without and that somehow made your world a better place? Maybe they aren’t all academy award winners or sheer genius. But they mean something and never fail to move you when you watch them. So here’s my part one of my top 10 list and feel free to leave the titles of your own movie therapists in the comments below.

1. All About Eve: Since I like show business, theater and films, it would only figure my favorite of all time would be about just that. But All About Eve isn’t only a great movie about showbiz, it’s also a great movie about life, friendship and integrity. Plus the writing is so damn good it blows my mind.

2. The Philadelphia Story: If it’s raining. If I’m sad. If I need to laugh. The answer is usually The Philadelphia Story. Why would anyone ever watch a Katherine Heigl film when this exists in the world? It’s brilliant and was the film that made me fall in love Hepburn, Stewart and Grant all at the same time. (Ps if you get this film confused with the sappy,overrated AIDS drama with Tom Hanks, you’re missing out and should see this one instead. )

3. Almost Famous:Another showbiz film and boy oh boy do I love it. I really think it’s okay that Kate Hudson, Cameron Crowe and Patrick Fugit never made another great movie after this one. It’s so good and so profound that the world was given a true gift with this movie and all involved should still feel proud.

4. The Hours: “I remember one morning getting up at dawn, there was such a sense of possibility. You know, that feeling? And I remember thinking to myself: So, this is the beginning of happiness. This is where it starts. And of course there will always be more. It never occurred to me it wasn’t the beginning. It was happiness. It was the moment. Right then.” It’s incredible observations like this one along with performances that I will never forget that make this movie list-worthy.

5. Hannah and her Sisters: When I was 14 I watched Hannah and Her Sisters on VHS (80’s child alert!) and that’s when I finally “got” Woody Allen. This funny and heartbreaking film covers everything from God’s existence to the complex nature of sibling relationships and I’m so glad my teenage self got to see it.

Tomorrow we’ll look at the rest of my movie therapists and please share your own! I’m always on the look out for a new love affair.